Friday, February 24, 2012

Thoughts From The Journey For The Journey

When I was six we lived in a guest house in Nevis – where I got spanked for throwing ginups (fruit) seeds on people’s
heads off the second floor balcony onto the parade below.

What if I forget to tell my kids about when my friends and I were content to spend the afternoon cleaning up cow patties
in the church yard to get ready for the IYC trip when I was seven. How my favorite place to play in St. Martin was an old
broken down VW Bug that I would sit in and play for hours.

How I got in trouble from my parents for running in and reading the test that my Mom had just written for the Bible School
students- after they bribed me with sweets- if I would “help” them out.

How my friends and I that summer also thought we would help by passing out tracts (again I was seven). My friend said

Troy, Steve, Tiny (the dog) and Cylinda

that he would tell my parents (working on the church building) and he did not. So it was dark—my parents could not find
me and I was miles down the countryside—the only white girl giving out tracts inviting people to church.

How my job was to sit on the side of the rode and wait for the ice man to drive up in his cart to buy ice for the day for 2 EC dollars and he would chip off a tiny piece for me personally—that I relished all the way back to the guest house.

How we lived in a one room guest house in St. Martin and all four of us fit onto one motorcycle.

How I would be at church Sunday AM/PM - Mon/Tues/Wed/Thur. and never thought anything of it.

How I would love the one day a week we were allowed to go out to eat.

How I remember when McDonalds first came to our island; how Ronald McDonald was mobbed by the kids and they had
to put him on the roof.

Waiting in line to get baptized!

How those first hamburgers tasted like heaven and they were served in brown papers bags.

How we would not leave service until 1:00 to 1:30 in the afternoon; after several would receive the Holy Ghost.

How during the middle of my Dad’s preaching a Rasta came in and grabbed my dad up (he is 5’7”) by the neck tie and
threatened his life and the ushers (one a former bar bouncer) threw him out literally.

How my list of toys for one summer in St. Kitts was a white VW match box car. My brother had a blue convertible. That
and dirt kept us entertained all summer.

And the list goes on and on and on. I don’t want to forget these things. I want my children to be raised in the simple
knowledge that God, your faith, family, and church are enough. That living your life fully for Him is what it is about. I am
afraid that somehow after these years the fresh vivid memories of so much of my life will fade.

I want my girls to do more for Him that I ever thought of.To reach more of their world than I could ever of mine.
To teach more people than I could have in one setting.
To be sensitive to His presence.
To reach out.
To love.
To really care.
To be more than girls--to be ministers of light.
And you know what?
They will!

Cylinda serves as the Office Manager for MK Ministries. She is a MK and a former AIMer to several locations.